


Unmaker

by gnomeicecream



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Domestic assassins, Fix It Fic, Guns, Secret Agent Lacroix back in Black, Time Travel, allusions to kidnapping and non consensual medical torture, knife and dagger stuff, the general warning that is Widowmakers backstory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-24
Updated: 2020-02-24
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:02:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22883731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gnomeicecream/pseuds/gnomeicecream
Summary: It was going on three weeks now; At first Gerard didn’t sleep, pushing himself to collapse but of course that frantic energy could not be sustained. Traveling from one side of the world to the other left him with time for naps on trains, taxis, planes, until the terror rose up in his chest enough to banish sleep and then he had files, photos, interrogation transcripts to go through. Each dead end was burned, the earth it lay on salted, of course, but it still cut away at his hope bit by bit. That she would still be alive by the time they found her. He lived in fear of the day they finally sent a ransom note. He lived in fear that they never would.
Relationships: Gérard Lacroix/Widowmaker | Amélie Lacroix
Comments: 4
Kudos: 11





	Unmaker

It was going on three weeks now; At first Gerard didn’t sleep, pushing himself to collapse but of course that frantic energy could not be sustained. Traveling from one side of the world to the other left him with time for naps on trains, taxis, planes, until the terror rose up in his chest enough to banish sleep and then he had files, photos, interrogation transcripts to go through. Each dead end was burned, the earth it lay on salted, of course, but it still cut away at his hope bit by bit. That she would still be alive by the time they found her. He lived in fear of the day they finally sent a ransom note. He lived in fear that they never would. 

It was just convenience that had him stop by his flat outside of Paris. Amelie enjoyed maintaining a residence close to the city for when she had performances and didn’t want to live out of a hotel. They got enough of that with his job. He had his keys in hand, ready to key in the code to turn off the alarm. In his sleep deprived fugue, he almost didn’t notice in time. The alarm was already off, light green. Adrenaline brought his mind back into focus, along with a sharp pounding headache. He took stock. Gun, underarm holster. Knives, hip, along his spine, one in each boot, one hidden among the keys already in hand. Com, always in his ear these days and on, with two spares; one in his pocket, one in his small travel pack. 

He listened.

There was music playing in the flat, low instrumental. It was one of Amelie’s ballet soundtracks but jazzed up for a modern audience. It almost covered the noise of metal on metal, scrape scrape clatter tap tap. He couldn’t hear the sound of breaths, movement, over the music. There was one voice, female, low but it didn’t quite sound like his Amelie. Maybe if someone took a recording of her voice, dipped it in bleach, that is what she would sound like. Who were they?

The alarm being off could have been missed, if one wanted to set up an ambush. But the music would warm him immediately that someone was in his home. It sounded downright domestic, the sounds could be mistaken for puttering at the stove (maybe were the sounds of puttering at the stove?). This could be a very unfortunate squatter, but he doubted it. His home’s defences were such that there were far easier, safer targets, then the tenth floor apartment of a private complex of flats far from downtown. 

“Blackwatch Paris this is Agent Lacroix, requesting backup immediately at my Paris address. My home has been compromised, at least one susp-”

There was laughter, dear god, it was just like Amelies’. If he hadn’t heard the false sound of her voice before, he would have rushed in blindly. Now that was a clever trap. He was exhausted enough to make mistakes, Gabe had been telling him so just this morning, nevermind other mornings this week. He was going to pull the teeth of whoever set this up, one by one till they had just enough mouth left to tell him what he wanted to know. The voice was speaking again.

“-you have to let-” a loud clatter, scrape scrape scrape scrape, “-you must have forgotten.” 

“Yes.” Bleach said. Two voices then, both women. 

“This is Blackwatch Paris, Agent Antonine. Backup on the way.”

“Very good. There is a balcony on the west facing wall, there are good sightlines for a drone. Send video to my communicator. Then patch me through to the team.” Gerard murmured. The music would cover the small sounds he made well enough. There was a pause as the machine of the military turned orders into action, men and vehicle deployed. In the meantime, he listened; any intel they may reveal while they thought they were unobserved had to be gained now. On a sudden inspiration, he pulled out his spare ear com and slipped it under the door.

It was the work of a moment to establish his own channel, set to record. Now this he could work with.

“I think that should do it. Now pull the pasta through-” Laugh said.

“While both are warm. Sit.” Bleach again. There was another sound. They had been cooking. Well just make yourself at home then, what in the world. At least now he could hear.

There were sounds of forks against plates, the soft bell chime of glass gently tapped against glass. On his communicator, transcribed text relayed the actions of the team en-route. The drone was much faster to arrive, and now he had video in real time of. 

He kept his place and his voice by an effort of will. 

Several possibilities shot through his mind faster then he could put words to them. The first, the most hopeful; Amelie! She rescued herself she is here she is safe go to her she needs you. Second; She is a hostage and the other voice, Bleach, this quiet little interlude is Amelie biding her time until she can escape, making them drop their guard in complacency. Why does Bleach sound like Amelie? Third; Bleach is not Talon at all, and rescued Amelie herself for unknown purposes, which may or may not be safer then option two. Four; Neither of the women there are what they seem and this is a trap within a trap.

The answer that satisfies all possibilities of highest likelihood is the one he likes least, but trusts most; More information, wait. The team will be here soon. They will have a medic if needed, firepower if not. God, Amelie. He closes his eyes for a moment of weakness, breathes in deeply. The air carries the scent of meat and sauce and spice. Cavatelli lunghi alla molisana. Her music is in his ears and her cooking is in his nose Amelie is on the other side of the door he knows it better than he knows his name. He tells himself it is the adrenaline, sustained for too long, that is making him shake. 

“This is Team Foxtrot, all entrances are secure, the team on the roof is in position and ready to repel. Medic is on standby one street over, traffic is cordoned off. Strike on your order sir.”

“They are here.” Bleach. Shit.

“Go, now! Non lethal shots only!” Gerard is on his feet, forgetting his keys in the moment and kicking the door open. 

Thank all the saints and the tech department that he had forewarning or he wouldn’t have been able to keep his feet. Amelie smiles when she sees him.

“Stop. Do not approach.” Bleach is standing now, between them both. There is a rifle in her arms, modified, sniper by the looks of it. Impractical body armor, more for show than protection. Grenades, also modified. She has a much smaller handgun pointed at his chest. 

“Blue, do you really think that’s ness-”

“Yes.”

“Madam, this can end quite peacefully. There is no need-” Gerard just needs to stall half a minute or less for the team on the balcony to arrive. 

“She will kill you if she goes with you now. They had her too long.” Bleach, or perhaps Blue, says. Her face doesn’t change. God, her face. Its smooth as marble but for the tears now rolling freely down her cheeks. It's Amelie’s face.

“She told me about what they had done to her. Were doing to me. It is true, I think.” Amelie sounds terrified and he wants to go to her like he wants his next breath, but the gun may well prevent him from having either so he keeps his place. Ten seconds. 

“Agree to my terms or I will shoot her.”

“Blue!”

“You or him. If you had the choice, you would choose him as well.”

“You can’t tell me what I would think!”

“Yes I can.”

“Ladies! No one is shooting anyone!”

The glass on the balcony door shatters, special rounds clearing the way for a team of four Agents dressed in mishmashed styles of vaguely uniform shaped black. Five new guns (one double wielding) take sight at Blue. Amelie uses the distraction to throw herself on her back.

She is thrown one handed, shattering wine glasses and plates when she lands on the table. The gun is at her temple now.

“My terms, monsieurs.” Blue’s eyes never leave Gerard’s face, even as glass shards rained down in gently tinkling shimmers.

And now it is undoubtedly the second scenario. Gerard lowers his weapon, motions for the team to do the same. Distantly, he notices the drone is still recording. “You have my undivided attention, madam.”

“One. You will never be alone with Amelie.”

“For how long?”

Blue tilts her head as though there should be an expression on her face that never arrives. “It may never be safe. I do not remember what the trigger is.”

Gerard bites back his first reply. She could only know of the trigger in the first place if she was Talon, currently or former. Of course that is out of the question, but it harms nothing to agree to it. It is not like Blue has the ability to-

“Two. I will guard her to ensure compliance. I will also see to her safety. Talon may attempt to take her again. They must not succeed at your assassination.”

“I am touched by your concern madam, but somewhat baffled as to its source. Who are you?”

Blue remains quiet for a moment, blank face revealing only that she is thinking, not what the thoughts are. “I am no one. Not anymore. But I am called Widowmaker.”

**Author's Note:**

> So I don't have any intention to go on, but my general idea is; Widowmaker gets sent back in time through means that don't matter (maybe shooting Tracers chronal accelerator?) She reports back in to Talon only they have no idea who she is, is the Widowmaker program done early? No Amelie is still in the tank. Widowmaker freaks out, saves her in the heat of the moment, then Amelie takes her home and she quietly panics until Gerard arrives. After they all get taken in, she says she is a part of the same Talon project as Amelie and tells them about how she murdered her husband and how Amelie will do the same. They all fear and pity her, eventually Gerard clues in and says "I now have two wives. Everyone meet Murder Wife." Poly every after. They murder Talon. As a family.


End file.
